


home for christmas

by bleep0bleep



Series: A Series of Tumblr Ficlets [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: Stiles rages, thumping down the hallway, undressing as he goes. His wet sweatshirt, ugh, wet t-shirt gets cast off as he tries to get warm. Maybe he’ll just take a hot shower and get on Netflix and contemplate his sad winter break all by himself.A door opens, and an annoyed voice calls out, ”Noise ordinances during the winter break still apply—”Derek Hale steps into the hallway, freezing when he sees Stiles standing there wet and shirtless.~In which Stiles is stuck at school over winter break until he realizes Derek isalsofrom Beacon Hills. Cue rideshare.





	home for christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Путь домой на Рождество](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856863) by [novoyaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novoyaz/pseuds/novoyaz)



Stiles zips his duffel bag closed, humming happily to himself. No more finals, no more class for another three blissful weeks. He’s looking forward to being back home in Beacon Hills, hanging out with his dad, seeing Scott and trading stories about their first school year apart from each other since kindergarten. 

Stiles flips his hood, the rain falling down around him as he heads to the campus bus circle. He misses his Jeep, but it wouldn’t have made sense for him to pay for a parking spot at the dorms when there are shuttles that depart regularly every weekend (Beacon Hills is one of the last stops on the H line). 

It’s cold, and he gets soaked to the skin immediately but it’s all fine now that he’s under the scanty protection of the bus stop. Stiles waits awkwardly for ten minutes in the freezing wet wind before he reads the sign. Oh no. The last H bus left an hour ago? Stiles keeps reading, face dropping in horror when he realizes that the bus schedule for the winter holidays has made it so that there will be no H buses running at all until next quarter. After the break. 

Stiles curses, walking all the way back to the dorms, in a foul, foul mood. The floors are mostly empty, so Stiles has no problem singing a messed up version of “Let It Go” at the top of his lungs. ”Fuck it all, fuck it all… I don’t give a shit anymore…” Stiles rages, thumping down the hallway, undressing as he goes. His wet sweatshirt, ugh, wet t-shirt gets cast off as he tries to get warm. Maybe he’ll just take a hot shower and get on Netflix and contemplate his sad winter break all by himself. 

A door opens, and an annoyed voice calls out, ”Noise ordinances during the winter break still apply—” 

Derek Hale steps into the hallway, freezing when he sees Stiles standing there wet and shirtless.

“Uh. Sorry, dude, thought everyone went home for break.” Stiles bobs his head a little to his RA, feeling a little self conscious about his partial nudity. 

“You okay? I mean, I kind of expected this kind of behavior during finals week, but everyone is done,” Derek says, frowning.

“Yeah, I just missed the last bus to go back home for the break, no big deal,” Stiles says. “I mean, my dad could probably come pick me up, but he’s the Sheriff, doesn’t really get a lot of time off round the holidays. Or I could call my buddy Scott, which would suck because he’s not done with his finals till next week, plus he’d have to drive all the way up from San Diego, I don’t wanna ask him to swing two hours out of his way past Beacon Hills…”

“Wait, did you say Beacon Hills?” Derek asks. 

“Yeah, I’m from there,” Stiles says. “Go Cyclones, woo." 

"Oh,” Derek says. “That’s my hometown.”

Suddenly the near miserable future Stiles had envisioned turns into a bright, fervent hope. “OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING. Are you going home for break? Can you give me a ride? I could pay you back for gas…”

Derek takes one look at him and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, sure, okay. Give me a sec. Why don’t you … go… get dressed,” he says, in a stilted voice.

Right. Stiles had been on his way towards a hot shower, stripping in the middle of the hallway like nobody’s business. 

“Right, be back in a jif,” Stiles says, grinning. 

He dashes to the bathroom, taking the quickest shower he can imagine, changing into dry clothes. Stiles doesn’t know his RA that well, just that he keeps to himself and is pretty grumpy most of the time, and actually enforces the alcohol rules, which doesn’t make him super popular at all. Seems like a good dude, though. Stiles’ roommate Isaac had a problem with one of his professors and Derek had helped him sort out everything. Stiles still doesn’t know what it was about, but Isaac had seemed so much more relaxed and happy after, so, that was nice. 

Stiles grabs his bag and rushes back towards Derek’s room, where he’s closing the door, looking good in a leather jacket. He doesn’t have any bags, but Stiles figures he probably had already packed his car. 

They head down to the parking structure, where Derek has apparently shelled out for the ridiculously expensive parking space. He also drives a brand-new Camaro, so he’s probably filthy rich. Makes sense, Stiles guesses. 

“How’d your finals go? What’s your major, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you much,” Stiles asks. 

“History,” Derek says. “And finals were fine.”

“No way, you have the old classic brick!” Stiles exclaims, distracted by Derek’s iPod. He grabs the thing, flipping through Derek’s music as they drive off campus, heading for the freeway. 

Derek is excellent car company, as in he barely talks at all, but Stiles is happy to fill the silence. He does laugh when Stiles tells him the story of that guy who accidentally opened up a porn video in the middle of a lecture. 

He is a good guy, Stiles decides, when Derek hums in agreement about the recent Star Wars movies. They get in a fun discussion about Obi Wan Kenobi’s mullet, which is how Stiles incidentally learns that Derek is bi.

“I mean, he was just so hot in Big Fish,” Derek says, sighing a little. “That hair, though." 

"Yeah,” Stiles agrees. “But he’s a _Jedi_ in Star Wars, you know? Plus, there’s always, _help me Obi-Wan, you’re my only hope_.” He grins at Derek, delighted at this piece of information, and belatedly wonders if Derek might be interested in him, if he asked him out or something. “C’mon, you’re telling me you wouldn’t do Obi Wan because of his hair.”

Derek laughs as Stiles brings up even more and more ridiculous situations, and then they end up play bed-wed-behead for awhile with different celebrities, and the two hours to Beacon Hills passes by quickly. 

Stiles directs Derek to his house, and the Camaro pulls up outside, coming to a halt. “Dude! That was great. You should give me your number, I’ll buy you dinner sometime during the break.” 

Derek looks pleased and apologetic at the same time. “Sorry, I’m probably gonna head back to campus. It was… nice hanging out with you, though. I’ll see you next quarter.”

"Whoa, whoa, wait.” Stiles turns to stare at Derek. “Didn’t you say you lived here? You drove me back on your way home for break, right?”

Derek shrugs. “Wasn’t planning on coming back. I don’t really have anyone here to hang out with.”

Stiles realizes suddenly: Derek _Hale,_ like the Hales who lived up in that big manor in the woods until that horrific fire ten years back. 

Derek bites his lip, watching the wheels turn in Stiles’ head. “My uncle is backpacking in Thailand or something, and my little sister is going snowboarding with her friends in Tahoe. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Dude, no,” Stiles says adamantly. “Park the damn car. You’re staying for Christmas break with me.”

“What?”

“C’mon, we’ve got a guest room and everything. It’s the least I could do for the drive back. You have to participate in all the Stilinski traditions though, like homemade hot chocolate and popcorn garlands for the tree, and oh, the tree! I haven’t gotten one yet, so you should come with me. And we do caroling. And when Scott gets here and everyone gets back we're gonna go ice skating up by the park and everything. What do you say?" 

Derek blinks, startled, and Stiles knows his tendency to ramble can be unnerving, but then Derek smiles back at him, warm and happy. “Sure. Thanks. I’d…I’d like that.” 

"Awesome,” Stiles says. He gets out of the car, watching Derek do the same, and grins stupidly at him. “I can’t believe you drove me home when you weren’t planning to go, anyways.”

Derek mutters something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“You were sad and cute,” Derek repeats, his ears turning red. “Plus I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you since the second week in the quarter. I’m not really…good with people.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open. “Talk to me… like _talk_ to me or like… hang out… or…" 

A police cruiser pulls into the driveway, and Stiles can barely manage a "Hi, Dad,” before his father takes one look at him, at Derek, and then at the Camaro and then lets out a long sigh.

“Son, when you left for school in September and you told me by winter break you were gonna have a relationship—” he does finger quotes— “locked down, I really didn’t know what to say. But I guess I underestimated you. Hi, I’m John, Stiles’ dad,” he says, giving Derek a hand to shake. 

Stiles is about to correct him but Derek just says, “Nice to meet you, sir,” and shakes his hand firmly.

Well.

Looks like this is gonna be an interesting vacation.


End file.
